Dog Tags
by anonymous skrub
Summary: My version of the MW series, starting just before MW2. Inspired by my buddy Desert. Rated T because... well, M is overrated. T is now for covering sex, drugs, and extreme violence. Kinda of (Actually really) AU and OOC.
1. Prologue: I'm in the Army now!

**Alright, I'm gonna do an honest to goodness CoD fic here. Credit to my buddy Desert for the inspiration. Pairings? Maybe. I'm probably gonna do what I thought would happen in Desert's story. Sorry, buddy. e.e Anyway, takes place post CoD4, pre-MW2, leads into MW2 and MW3. AUTOBOTS, BEGIN STORY!**

"Name?"

**(I'm so tempted to put Justin Bieber here and kill him off)** "Jenna Denning, sir." (Heh... rhymes with Benning.)

"Date of birth?"** (Keep in mind CoD4 ended in 2011, and MW2 starts in 2015/2016.)**

"Oh five, two six, one ninety-nine seven."

"You sure about this, miss?" the recruiter asks, looking up from his computer. Jenna stares down at him, eyes ablaze with determination.

**AN: Once again, women are allowed in SOCOM. Hooray for fairness! Boo to perverts!**

"Never more sure than anything in my life, sir," she replies crisply. He nods, and smiles, offering his hand.

"Welcome to the United States Army, Ms. Denning. Or should I now say, Cadet Denning?" She grins, and shakes his outstretched hand. _I feel this is gonna be good,_ she thinks to herself. Little did she know, this would be one of the worst experiences in her life.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Dat foreshadow tho.**

**Anyway, this is a filler for the good stuff. Just putting it here so I don't have to go through the bullshit of creating this later. Kthnxbai.**

**Ranger Danger 11**

**Motto of the Air Force according to the Army, "MAY DAY, MAY DAY!"**

**Army: HOOAH!**

**Marines: OORAH!**

**Navy: HOOYAH!**

**Coast Guard: HOOYAH!**

**Air Force: What?**

**l**

**l**

**l**

**l**

**l**

**According to the other branches, that is the Air Force's response. COMEDY SECTION:**

**Why you should think before joining the Marines: (Insert gyazo .com)/55366e4985bd1b2dc1b047eafe4ce733**

**Security duck: (Same as that nub ^)/6a531ae09106fc061c7fd81c3a31ca4c**

**You know you're safe when Security Duck is here.**


	2. Welcome to Hell!

Private Jenna "Wolfy" Denning stepped off the C-130 cargo plane and on to the hot, Afghan sand. Rangers from Hotel Company, 1st Rangers were running PT, playing basketball, or doing personal stuff. Several other new Rangers stepped off the C-130 as well, including Jenna's two best friends since Basic, Specialist Keith "Sticky" McKnight and Private First Class Katherine "Cinderella" Belle. **(See what I did there? Cinderella and Belle? Two Disney princess names... Ahh, forget it.)**

Keith let out an impressed whistle. "So, this is the Sand Box…" he drawled in his Texan boy accent. Kathy rolled her eyes, and stated very sarcastically, "No, Sticky, it's the ocean! No sand in sight here!" She got flicked in the head by the 6'2 Ranger. She then promptly elbowed him in the balls… with her plastic elbow guard. **(Ow… I'm sorry Keith, but your balls rank less than my readers' entertainment.) **He doubled over, groaning. Jenna giggled, and then helped him up.

Keith wisely backed away from the two dangerous Rangers, clutching his manhood. Not one of Jenna's besties, but still a friend, Private James Ramirez stood behind them, holding a video camera in one hand. "And… SCENE! Great job, people, this will get a million hits on YouTube in no time!" James declared. Keith's eyes widened in horror as the girls laughed it up.

"Alright kids, play time is over," a deep, but gentle male voice stated. The quartet looked in the direction it came from to see a Ranger with a corporal's rank tab on his BDU, along with the name "DUNN" and a Ranger tab and scroll. "The name's Tim Dunn **(I'm so original.)**, and I'm the assistant team leader of Hunter 2-1. Welcome to Firebase Phoenix," he said. He continued, "As some of the first female Rangers, I congratulate you two," he said, tipping his cap at Jenna and Kathy, "but we have a mock up course here all newbies have to pass. The Pit," he said, grinning like a maniac at the end.

"Alright, kids, follow the leader!" he shouted, and jogged towards a large trench area. They vaguely heard in the distance, "… and to switch from target to target faster, aim down the sights, kill one, then go out of the sights and aim down them again." They all were thinking, _What is this, Call of fucking Duty?_

They walked down into the Pit, and stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for Cpl. Dunn to brief them. "Alright, this is the Pit. It's a CQC sim, and it has both hostiles and civilians, so watch your fire. You will go one at a time, on my go. Choose a weapon, and a side arm," he said, gesturing to the many guns. Keith grabbed a M14 Enhanced Battle Rifle, and a Glock 18; James took a Remington ACR and Beretta M9; Kathy grabbed a Heckler &amp; Koch MP5K and Heckler and Koch Universal Self-loading Pistol (USP), chambered for the .45 caliber round** (The HK USP can be chambered for either a .45 caliber or 9mm bullet.)**; Jenna took a M4 carbine and a M1014 12-gauge shot/scattergun.

Keith went first; he started out fairly well, taking down targets like a pro with semi-automatic awesomeness. As soon as he got in the house, though, his gun would fit through any doors. This cost him about 8 seconds. He eventually passed in 1:34.

Kathy went next; she started out really good, taking down the entire front of the house in 14 seconds, no civilians hit; though when she got to the top of the stairs in the house, the target hit her in the face. Needless to say, she was pissed and finished fast. 1:12.

James followed, and managed to take down all the targets in a timely fashion. However, just as he jumped off the second floor, he twisted his ankle upon landing. He fought on, but was late. 1:48.

Finally, Jenna was up. She loaded shells into her M1014, and slammed a mag home in her M4. As soon as the timer started, everything around her disappeared. Targets in front of her and to her left; she dropped them with 6 rounds. Targets directly in front, and in the window; 11 rounds, no civilians hit. Target top of the stairs; empty the mag and reload. Civilians and hostiles, second floor; 10 rounds, no civilians hit. Tangos in the yard, along with civvies; 13 rounds, no civvies hit. Sprint; 5 tangos in front! Spray the last 7 rounds, drop the M4, pull out the shotgun; 2 shells and they're down.

**(Not good with not actual combat scenes. qq) **"Denning, you finished in… 0:51!" Dunn exclaimed. The others were about to complain when a voice came over the speakers, "HOTEL COMPANY, LOAD UP! BRAVO IS PINNED DOWN IN THE RED ZONE, GET THERE DOUBLE TIME!" Dunn put on a serious face, "Alright, you four are with me and 2-1. McKnight, you got the 240. Ramirez, take his M14 and go get some mags for it. Belle, Denning, grab a M4 rifle and hopefully an ACOG. Denning, try to get an M320 as well," Dunn ordered, the said people doing the tasks as soon as it came out of his mouth.

In 15 minutes, they were a few hundred yards out in the Hotel convoy. Lt. General Shepard was in this as well, with Hunter 2-3. Foley, their TL, and PFC Allen, their second grenadier, were in the Humvee as well as Dunn, McKnight, Belle, Ramirez, and Denning. Ramirez was on the M134 7.62mm minigun, Dunn driving, Belle and Allen in the back seats, Foley in the passenger seat, and McKnight and Denning in the trunk. Ramirez spotted something, and started talking to himself. "Looks like a flock of birds heading straight for… us…" he trailed off, realization coming over him. He rapidly hit the hood of the Humvee and hollered at the top of his lungs, "MORTARS, INCOMING!" As soon as Jenna heard that, she had one thought: _Aww shit…_ Then the mortars hit, and she blacked out.


	3. Bullet Casings and JDAMs

**AN: Alright, so, where we left off… *cue mass explosions.* Yup, there we go. Review reply:**

**Desert: Yes… Mortars heading towards you are very bad. Especially if they're 120mm mortar shells. Ow. And yes, Jenna IS a TOTALLY ORIGINAL name.**

**Masmp31: Really? Thanks pal! Personally, I think I rush too much, and don't put enough detail in, or do too much detail. But thanks for the compliment!**

**Spitfire: Dude, half the memes dissing the Army are actually Marines, so… Yeah.**

Jenna gradually came back into consciousness, and tried opening her eyes. Being knocked out for half an hour tends to give you the morning sleepy eyes, though. Simply speaking: she didn't open her eyes. Typical Jenna for you.

She finally groaned, and rubbed her eyes, trying to stir them awake. As she opened them, she saw something that would scar her for life: Keith lay in front of her, stuck to the side of the Humvee with a piece of shrapnel, torn from the trunk of the Humvee, lodged straight in his chest. She did the natural thing: She screamed. This woke up Dunn, Belle, and Foley, who quickly came to. Belle covered her mouth, Dunn looked away, and Foley… Foley just shrugged, and cut his seatbelt off.

Jenna gulped, and grabbed her M4A1 rifle, and kicked open the door of the trunk, vomiting upon reaching the outside. She saw Genera Shepard helping up Ramirez, who had flown from the Humvee turret, and shoving him into the rain of lead and rockets. She grabbed her rifle once again, and ran behind the rest of Hunter 2-1.

She heard a Ranger calling in grid coordinates for an airstrike as she slid into cover next to Ramirez and Foley, and began shooting at tangos across the river. "Solid copy, Hunter 2-1. Rolling in now… Target acquired…" Jenna continued firing, the targets across the river nice and big in her Trijicon 4x32 Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight (ACOG). She had the rifle on semiautomatic, so each time she pulled the trigger, only 1 round left the muzzle. She heard Ramirez, on her right, curse and say something about hot brass on his balls. She smirked.

Suddenly, after she reloaded and went back to look through her scope, Dunn patted her shoulder, yelling over the noise, "JENNA, WE'RE OSCAR MIKE! GET TO THE HUMVEES ON THE BRIDGE! GO!" He pushed her towards the stairs leading to the bridge. She climbed up quickly, and got in a new Humvee where Foley was already seated in.

The Rangers stood around, muttering things. Someone called out, "TEN SECONDS!" After more muttering, an F-15E fighter jet shrieked by, and a few seconds later, an apartment complex that they were taking fire from suddenly exploded in a mix of fire, shrapnel, and concrete, all the materials mentioned flying everywhere. She watched in slight awe, and vaguely recognized Ramirez hauling himself in the shieldless turret of the Humvee, prepping their M134 .50 caliber minigun. Foley announced over the radio, "Hunter 2! We're oscar mike, let's go! Let's go!"

A steady stream of, "Hooahs," later, the convoy got underway. Jenna saw some ASF **(Army Special Forces/Green Berets)** guys moving into alleys on foot, with their tacticool gear of Crye Scorpion cargo pants, dark yellow/brown-ish hoodies, baseball caps and hockey helmets, and of course, the beards and the beanies. She envied them so.

"3 men, probably militia, 12 o'clock," whispered Ramirez, who began to slowly spool up the .50. "They got any weapons?" Foley asked, flicking his rifle from SAFE to AUTOMATIC. Jenna switched hers to SEMIAUTOMATIC. "Negative, just watching us," Ramirez replied. Dunn snorted, "Damn RoE. They're probably scouting us, man." Ramirez and Jenna hummed in agreement. "Just keep driving, corporal…" Foley said, eying the 3 men still.

As they turned the corner, the 3 men disappeared into the building. Ramirez saw this, and also… "TANGO WITH AN RPG, ON OUR 6!" He yelled to the next Humvee. The gunner spun around his gun, opening fire. The RPG gunner dropped dead.

Ramirez turned forward again, breathing a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the entire convoy heard a sharp _CRR-ACK!_ A bullet hit the roof of the Humvee, ricocheting into Ramirez's chest plate. He had the wind knocked out of him, but recovered quickly.

"SNIPER, SNIPER!" Kathie yelled, scanning the rooftops with her M4. "You see'em, guys!?" Ramirez asked, swiveling the M134 left and right. "I don't see jack, man!" Dunn yelled, ducking behind the wheel as he kept driving. Jenna tried rolling down the window, only to have a bullet hit the glass and create a spider web effect. "Whoa!" She yelled, leaning back into Ramirez's legs.

"Hunter 2, this is Devil 1-1, we got positive enemy fire coming from the school 175 yards to your front. Too close for effective fire. Command is bringing in Pegasus 2-2, flight of 4 Apaches. See you later, guys," the pilot finished, doing a flyby of the school, causing insurgents to duck behind cover and/or shoot at the supersonic fighter.

"Alright, Ramirez, get that gun ready! We're going in!" Foley yelled. Ramirez wasted no time in heating up the .50, bracing for the opening volley of fire that should come. "Hell yeah, spin'em up, guys, we're going in!" Kathie yelled in the radio. A chorus of "Hell yeahs!" and "Hooahs!" responded to her call.

As they rounded the corner and the school came in sight, all hell broke loose. Bullets and rockets rained down from the school on the Rangers. Ramirez and the other gunners let loose with their guns, spitting out several hundred rounds a minute. Their bullets cut through stone, concrete, steel, and flesh; their brass casings falling out of the chambers, pinging as they hit the roof of the armored vehicles. Then it went wrong.

"RPG!" The warning came from everywhere at once- and it helped nobody as the rockets flew and impacted. Hunter 2's C2 (Cx2=C and C; C &amp; C=Command and Control) Humvee exploded in a burst of flame, steel, and screams, killing Lieutenant Matthews and Sergeant First Class Donnelly. A second RPG hit the building directly to the left of Jenna, pelting their Humvee- and the exposed Ramirez- with rubble and shrapnel. The third, final, RPG hit the ground, and ricocheted through the right side back door of their Humvee- right through the vest of Kathie Belle. It stuck, unexploded in her chest, as she turned to look at Jenna. Mouth and nose bleeding, she slowly and weakly grasped Jenna's wrist before slumping over.

"KATHIE'S HIT! MAN DOWN," Jenna shouted, unaware of everything else. She was aware of the blood coming from the turret, semi-aware they were moving, but only aware her best friend had just been mortally wounded- or killed. She crawled around Ramirez's legs, and cradled her dying friend's head in her lap, sobbing. Kathie was taking shallow, unstable breaths, her broken lungs desperately trying to get air. She looked at Jenna in the eye, before smiling weakly, and just stopped breathing.

Jenna was about to close her eyes when Ramirez suddenly grabbed her and threw her out of the now-open door of the Humvee, jumping out behind and on her as an RPG suddenly struck the Humvee, igniting it in a massive column of flames… with Kathie's dead body still inside.

She screamed and tried to pry Ramirez off her, when Dunn finally came, and both dragged her kicking and screaming in a house filled with wounded Rangers. She managed to kick Ramirez in the face, giving him a bloody nose, before he violently smacked her across the face, yanked it back to face his, and grabbed her by the shoulders, and screamed at her. "DENNING! GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF! CALM THE FUCK DOWN, JENNA!"

He continued screaming, as she noticed something. 2 Rangers started climbing up the stairs, only to be shot full of lead and sent toppling back down. Jenna grabbed Ramirez's rifle, which he had slung around his shoulder, and as soon as the insurgents came down the stairs, she pumped them full of 5.56x45mm rounds, emptying the entire magazine.

Ramirez looked behind him, shocked, before getting pushed up by Jenna, who took point. He stared at her, the blood from the day's events making her clothes stick to her skin. And, _damn_, she had a nice body. He shook his head, slapping himself across the face for good measure, to clear his head. Bad Ramirez, no, STAY OUT YOU STUPID HORMONES!

She raised her rifle, slowly climbing up the stairs. Before she went all the way up, she tossed in a flashbang. As soon as it went off, Jenna barged into the room, Dunn appearing out of nowhere to her right. Together, they shot and killed the enemy fighters on the second floor. "Clear," Dunn shouted downstairs.

Foley, Ramirez, and some guys from 2-2 came up. Suddenly, a machine gun- likely a PKM or RPK- opened up on them from the school. The SAR **(Squad Automatic Rifleman, not Search and Rescue; Squad Automatic Riflemen carry an M240/M249) **deployed his bipod, set up his 240, and returned fire. Their designated marksman supported him from a few windows away, laying down accurate lethal and suppressive fire with his M14 EBR-RI. "2-1, 2-2, let's move! We're gonna secure that school!" Foley said, charging out the doorway onto the steps leading to the ground. Dunn, Jenna, Ramirez, and the remainder of Hunter 2-2 followed closely behind.

They stacked up against a tin sheet wall, obscuring them from the enemy- for now. Dunn peeked his head out to check if it was clear, when several AKs and PKMs fired in his general direction. Foley got on the radio, "2-2 Sierra, help us out here. Clear out the playground for us, will you?" The pair responded, "Solid copy, standby for our go." Suddenly, the 240 and M14 sent rounds barely above the squad's heads, after which they heard something hit the ground beyond the tin wall. "All clear, 2-1 and 2-2."

Foley tapped a guy from 2-2, saying, "Get a few smoke grenades out to cover us." The guy nodded, and backed up, tossing smoke grenades and FOG* grenades over the fence. As soon as he felt it was a good time to move, Foley slapped Dunn's shoulder, screaming over the gun fire, "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE! GET INSIDE THE SCHOOL, GO!"

The Rangers charged through the smoke, bullets whizzing by their heads and cracking at their feet. As they exited the smoke, 2 fighters emerged from the school's entrance. Dunn and Foley dropped them, while Ramirez and Jenna took point into the school. After clearing the initial entrance, both ducked behind part of the wall that stuck out as rifle fire struck near them.

"Denning, Ramirez, clear that hallway ASAP!" Foley yelled from outside. "Working on it," Ramirez snapped, dropping to a knee and firing at the group of militants. They stopped firing, giving Jenna an opportunity to also pop out and shoot one as he dove for cover. "Get in, quick," Jenna said, firing off a quick burst at one enemy fighter as he stuck his head above cover. His head exploded, with the grey brain matter splatting against the wall.

2-1 and 2-2 quickly moved in and found cover, suppressing the hostile forces. A guy from 2-2, Jenna, and Ramirez went to clear a side room. As the 2-2 guy went in, he suddenly backed against the wall, bullets tearing through his vest, gear, and chest. Jenna quickly shot the gunner through the chest three times, and Ramirez went on ahead, clearing the rest of the room. After doing that, he nodded, indicating it was clear, so Jenna and Ramirez regrouped with the squad, who had also gotten the M240 and M14 shooters back.

"Danny?" A sergeant from 2-2 asked Ramirez. He shook his head. The sergeant clutched his rifle tightly, and volunteered to take point up the stairs. He and the M240 gunner quickly killed 3 guys in the stairwell, and proceeded into the hallway. The rest came up, noting the ammunition strewn everywhere. "Damn," whispered Dunn, "they turned this place into a fucking fortress." Foley went on point, "And all fortresses are vulnerable on the inside, Dunn."

Suddenly, their radios blared to life, "This is Hunter 2-3, with General Shepard, taking effective fire from the school, break! We are requesting immediate assistance, over!" Foley responded, "2-1 and 2-2 here, we read you 2-3. Hold fire on the school, break. We are inside. Prepare to break contact and move to the RV point, over." "Copy that, 2-1 and 2-2. Do it fast, though; the Humvees can't take much more. Hunter 2-3 out." The M240 gunner, PFC Peter Ramone, readied his weapon, placing a bead on the insurgents firing on Hunter 2-3. "Three… Two… One… Mark. OPEN FIRE!" Foley said, unleashing hell unto the enemy. They never had a prayer.

After clearing that set of windows, fighters came into the kill zone, only to be shot down. As the Americans reloaded, more came, almost enough to swarm them. Ramirez put a two-oh-three round down range. Threat eliminated.

The squad quickly moved up, coming into a set of rooms crawling with hostiles. Ramone put a few bursts* down range, along with SCAR and M4/M16/M14 fire from the rest, quickly clearing the rooms. "This is Hunter 2-3, we're clear. Thanks for the assist. Meet you at the rendezvous point, 2-1 and 2-2." They saw the 4 Humvees pull away, dust, craters, bullets and bullet casings the only evidence left behind that they were there.

The squad quickly killed the last 2 hostiles near the exit, and proceeded to move to the RV point. As they came into an alley, enemy fire from their 10 to 12 o'clock caught them by surprise. The sergeant from 2-2 quickly joined his friend Danny in the other world. Dunn caught a round through his thigh, and he fell screaming. Ramirez got hit the helmet and took one to the left hand, blasting off his pinky and ring fingers. He somehow managed to grab Dunn, though, and dragged him to cover.

Jenna's medic side took over, applying a tourniquet to Dunn's upper thigh to stop the bleeding. She then took out an ACE bandage, wrapping it around the wound tightly. She also wrapped up Ramirez's wounded hand, and checked him for head wounds, before she cleared him and sent him off. Dunn continued screaming, albeit quitter slightly. She gave him a shot of morphine; there wasn't much else to do behind a broken down Toyota Hilux.

She then noticed the fighting had moved, and they were alone. She quickly hoisted Dunn up, supporting him with her right arm, holding her SIG Sauer P226 in her left. She quickly crossed the former battlefield, moving around the dead bodies of former insurgents. As she checked her left, she came back to face her front- and was staring down the business end of an AK-74M. She could never swing her pistol around fast enough, so she closed her eyes and awaited the inevitable. She said her final words, "I'm sorry, Dunn."

A single crack reverberated throughout the Afghan valley.

**AN: Cliffhanger. Kill me now. Hope you enjoyed. Flame me, praise me, and throw yourselves at me in the comments. Buh-bai.**

**FOG grenades are activated faster than the standard smoke grenades, and are normally used to obscure windows.**


	4. The Shahikot: Still in the Sandbox

**AN: Wrote this all at roughly 3-3:30 AM this morning. Don't judge. Any grammar or spelling errors, please report to me. As always, read, review, and feel free to donate cookies.**

**Introducing our second protagonist, a Russian 0p3r8t0r,.. Ms. Tanya Zaytsev! If you read/saw "Enemy at the Gates" or are familiar with the Battle of Stalingrad, you should know who her grandpa is. ;)**

**[Shahikot Valley, Afghanistan**

**23 August 2014**

**Corporal Tanya "Huntress" Danovich Zaytseva**

**Sniper and combat medic, Alfa Team, Spetsnaz]**

"Alfa 4-1 is moving in. Keep us covered, 4-2," came the whispering voice of Lieutenant Mikaloshek Tetoyan, Tanya's commanding officer. She exhaled softly, sending a little cloud of steam into the cold morning air. As the team neared it's objective, a 2 story walled compound, Tanya adjusted her scope to compensate for the new windage.

As she scanned the second floor windows, she stopped. A single barrel of a gun- an AK-74M, she assumed- was sticking out of the window. She stopped breathing. The crosshairs of her scope found their way to the chest of the would-be shooter. As he got ready to slaughter her team, she gently rested her finger on the trigger. As the lack of air started constricting her chest, she squeezed. A soft _psshfft! _sounded, and a brass 7.62x39mm casing fell next to the Russian operator and her suppressed SVD.

She watched the round in slow motion, spiraling towards her target, cutting through the wind of the Afghan valley. A resounding _thud! _and splatter of red, coupled with his toppling out the window, allowed a grim smirk of satisfaction to grace her pale features.

"Good kill, 4-2. 4-1, get ready." She watched the team stack against the western wall. "Charges set... Time to stir up the hornet's nest. Fire in the hole!"

A resounding explosion sounded, and between the smoke and dust, she lost sight of her team. However, having done this exercise many times before, she assumed they just entered the compound. Their reaction in the next few minutes, however, was not standard.

"Shit, this place is rigged to blow! It's a fucking trap! 4-2, get your asses ou-" her CO was cut off as the entire building exploded, sending chunks of debris in every direction. Tanya gasped, and shot up from her table and chair in the back of a mountainside building.

"4-2, this is 6, what the hell is going on?" broke in a new voice on the net. Tanya responded, "Sir, it's a trap. 4-1 is KIA, and so is 4 Actual. We need immediate support. Multiple hostiles spotted, and-" she stopped speaking as she threw herself against the wall as incoming small arms fire kicked up dust, then the floor as she felt the vibrations of exploding artillery. "- mortars, rockets, and heavy small arms fire are pinning us down! We need CAS, now, sir!" She yelled, grabbing her rifle, and looking the window, startled to see a young Afghan teen standing there with a rifle. She recovered, blowing his brains out.

"4-2, this 6. Copy your last. We have an American AC-130 on station. Sit tight," the annoying voice of her Team CO announced again. A few minutes later, a new, American voice entered the net. "Alfa 4-2, this is Harrower 1-1. On station for CAS. How copy?"

Tanya had just finished gathering her squad, and the 9 Russian operators sprinted through brush, rock, and potential minefields, all the while dodging bullets, RPGs, and enemy artillery. She switched from Russian to English in a hurry, so it wasn't the finest. "1-1, 4-2 copy. Immediate fire, behind team. Enemy a lot," she gasped out.

She and another sniper paused, and unslung their AKS-74u carbines from their shoulders. She peered down the Kobra sight as an insurgent entered her view. She was about to pull the trigger, when suddenly the entire hillside was lit up by Harrower 1-1.

That insurgent, and every other behind him, was caught in a deadly barrage of 25mm Gatling guns, a Bofors 40mm cannon, and a 105mm howitzer. "Hot damn!" Exclaimed the pilot. "Good kills, good kills," muttered the video feed operator. "Nice fucking job, 1-1," Tanya said, grinning. She took off again, Private Dmitri Petrovask behind her.

"Say, 4-2, you sound kinda cute. How about meeting me for a few drinks back on base?" asked the gunner. She didn't even hesitate to answer him: "I'm a lesbian." She heard a spit take and coughing, followed by snickers from the rest of the crew. "Ignore Harrel, he's a horny son-of-a-bitch," answered the obviously older and more mature pilot. She snorted, as if that wasn't obvious, she thought.

"AMBUSH!" Yelled PFC Viktor Kasentrov. He dived for cover, and promptly got shot multiple times. "Contact! Right side, right side!" "Negative, left!" "I see tangos to our 12!" As the panicked Russians frantically tried to fight off the ambush, with 1-1 unleashing hell on the insurgents from the sky, Tanya desperately yelled, "1-1, WHERE IS OUR FUCKING REINFORCEMENTS!?"

A new voice, with a Texas drawl entered the comms. "Corporal Zaytseva, this is Lieutenant General Shepherd. Your QRF is on their way, along with my unit. Hang tight." She screamed in frustration, and yelled, "WHO ARE THEY AND HOW LONG?!"

Another voice entered, and she heard a beautiful female voice, with a hint of a Brooklyn/Jersey accent, say, "This is Private Jenna Denning, 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. Hunter 2-1 is oscar mike."

**AN: Edited with a few pointers from Desert. Thanks pal.**


	5. For the Motherland

**AN: Took me roughly 3-4 days to write this. I feel proud. Fluff at the end. Don't hate me. kthnx**

**[Shahikot Valley, Afghanistan**

**23 August 2014**

**3rd person POV**

**Hunter 2-1/Alfa 4-2]**

**Overlord: Hotel Company and TF-141 are inbound to support Alfa 4-2. SOAR, get your birds ready. We're going into the Shahikot.**

**soarbaseCO: The Shahikot, sir? The place from Operation Anaconda in '02?**

**Overlord: Correct. Make sure you have Apache cover. You'll need it.**

**soarbaseCO: Copy your last. Pegasus 2, 3, and 5 are spinning up now. ETA, 25 mikes.**

_Alfa 4-2's position_

As Tanya shot another insurgent from behind a fallen tree, Private Dmitri called out, "QRF in 25 mikes!" He then resumed putting down fire with a PKM he picked up after he stabbed one of the fighters who got too close.

Harrower 1-1 put down a few 40mm rounds near the top of the hill. Suddenly, the pilot called out, "What the fuck? I got missile lock on warnings, but we're outta SAM range!?" The gunner, Harrel, yelled, "Enemy fighters, 7 o'clock! 7 o'clock!" The pilot swore, and rapidly said, "Deploying flares, deploying flares!" The still dark dawn sky was suddenly lit up by dozens of flares falling to the earth.

"Cannon fire! Bank left, bank left!" A panicked crew member screamed. "We're not gonna m-" The pilot was adruptly cut off, before coming back on. "Harrower 1-1 is hit, going down! Going down! Crew, bail, bail, bail!"

The Russians, during a lull in the fighting, watched in horror as the gunship, flaming and gutting out smoke, fell to the mountains. They could see a dozen parachutes or so, but an AC-130 typically had a crew of about 35-40. Where was the other two-thirds?

They didn't have time to guess as Harrower 1-1 slammed right into the side of a mountain, erupting in a huge fireball. It shot hundreds of feet into the sky, catching the few crew members who bailed out in it's hellish flames.

Tanya snapped back to reality. "4-2, resume fire! We need to hold out for ten more minutes!" As soon as she said this, the team got back in action. "Firing RPG! Watch the backblast," exclaimed Corporal Aleksander Kazernten. The rocket-propelled grenade streaked away, detonating as it hit a boulder several insurgents were taking cover behind.

"Pegasus 3-3, gun run in 5 mikes. Alfa 4-2, please ignite a yellow smoke grenade to mark your position, over," a pilot announced over the comms. "I got it!" yelled the team medic, PFC Caroline Nemoreva. She yanked off the pin with her teeth, and tossed it in what was, roughly, the center of the team's circle.

"3-3, this is 4-2. Position marked. Anything 20 meters out is fair game. Over!" Tanya yelled into the radio, over the increasingly loud machine gun and rifle fire.

She gripped her 74u harder, and popped up and put a burst into the chest of a charging hostile. He fell, dead, before exploding. She blinked, shocked, before yelling out, "SUICIDE BOMBERS, WATCH OUT!"

Dmitri, the gunner, suddenly cried out as blood started spurting from a wound in his neck. "Hit! Neck wound," he exclaimed, checking the blood color before continuing, "it's arterial! Line, need a bit of help over here!" Caroline popped up, putting down the rest of her AK103 magazine, before ejecting it and slamming a new one home, pulling back the bolt as she reached Dmitri.

Tanya, too, felt the hammer-like blow of a gunshot wound. It was a minor one, just tore through some tissue, but still hurt like a _bitch_. She desperately yelled, "3-3, where the fuck are you?!" A witty pilot replied, "Right here." A mix of AH-64s and Mi-28s flew over, drawing enemy fire. Tanya breathed a sigh of relief, before putting down even more lead.

_About 5 minutes behind Pegasus 3-3; Hunter 2-1_

"Five minutes." The call rang throughout the MH-47E, as Rangers went over last minute equipment checks. PFCs Jenna Denning and James Ramirez were near the ramp, so they would be one of the first ones out. Private Morgan, who held the M240B 7.62mm machine gun, was decided to lead out. His machine gun could lay down critical suppressive fire so the rest of Hunter 2 could disembark.

Jenna inserted a magazine into her M4A1 rifle, when Lieutenant Hofferson, the new CO of Hunter 2, gave the order: "Lock and load, lady and gents!" The unanimous sounds of rifles and machine guns being primed to fire filled the chopper. The rear ramp slowly lowered half way. The rear crew chief, Staff Sergeant Micheal Brigde, held up 2 fingers. Two minutes.

Ramirez slipped an HE round into his M320, ready to fire the deadly explosive as soon as he needed to. Corporal Dunn looked up from adjusting the optics of his HK416. **(In real life, the SCAR series was decommisioned by the 75th Rangers Regiment for use in Afghanistan, due to repeated failure, jamming, and malfunctions. However, they are still used in urban and most other environments.) **He turned on the red dot of his M68 CCO scope, before gripping his vertical foregrip tightly.

Foley calmly listened to the radio traffic and steady beats of the helicopter. As they approached the LZ, whizzing sounds started to be heard. "Taking fire, taking fire!" exclaimed the pilot. The crew chiefs tried to suppress the shooters, sending hundreds of rounds towards them with M240Bs, Mark 19s, and M134s.

As the ramp finally lowered, and the helicopter came to a stop, Hunter 2-1 dashed off the bird. Morgan got off and veered left, falling on his stomach and setting up his gun with the bipod on a rock outcropping. Ramirez and Jenna tore right, they too hunkering down behind cover. Foley and Dunn got near Morgan, who proceeded to lay down covering fire.

As Hunter 2-2 got off, and Hunter 2-3 and 2-4 got near the ramp, several dozen 30mm cannon rounds tore through the helicopter, blowing it and the Rangers and SOAR crew inside up.

Several Rangers from 2-3 got off, only to be thrown several feet right into No Man's Land. A few rolled into a moderately deep crater, likely created from a mortar, and hunkered down. Others were not so lucky, and got shot as they tried to crawl away.

Jenna fired her rifle profusely, a mountain of brass forming next to her. Morgan needed to let his gun cool, but sizzling tracer rounds were still visible, whether they be in dead bodies, smoking trees, or cracked boulders. Morgan kept firing with his SiG Sauer P226, never letting up.

Ramirez took aim at a machine gun/RPG position, and put an HE round right on it, blowing the gunners to Kingdom Come. As he slid behind the rock to reload his grenade launcher, he heard the dim whine of a supersonic jet. But they didn't have any aircraft up...

"FAST MOVERS! GET DOWN!" He yelled, as a old MiG-19 fighter streaked by, the cannon hitting just 15 feet away from 2-1's position. He heard another jet, but as he was about to call out another warning, a F-22 Raptor screamed through the sky, and launched a missile straight at the antiqued fighter.

As the pilot desperately tried to bank, the missile sailed right up the tail pipe. The canopy exploded, but no pilot came out. The fighter exploded in a fireball of metal, gunpowder, and old fuel.

As the Raptor swooped by again, Foley called out, "We need to regroup with 4-2, and get the hell out of here! Ramirez, Denning, take point!" The young dou raced off towards the tree line, crouching down and dashing madly between the trees. Jenna slid, and laid down cover fire as Ramirez took cover and did the same, allowing them to regroup, and 2-1, 2-2, and whoever was left of 2-3 to meet up.

As they set up a hasty perimeter, Dunn barked out, "Visual on 4-2, about 100 meters to our southwest!" Foley nodded, and, gesturing to 2-2, shouted over the gunfire, "Lead the way!" As the squad automatic rifleman ran out, a suicide bomber tackled him, blowing them up, and wounding two other Rangers, one mortally.

As they were dragged back into cover and treated, Foley cursed. He got on the radio, and yelled, "4-2, unable to reach you. Can you try to fight your way to us near the extraction zone, over?" A Russian female answered, "Just give us a minute!"

Jenna was tending to one of the wounded, so Ramirez was all alone. As he spotted several insurgents, he put down several bursts. One got a guy in the chest and arm, another got someone's head, and he blew out a guy's legs. Suddenly, fire picked up around them, and as Ramirez reloaded, he turned around and saw something he'd never forget.

A Russian squad, led by a woman in her early twenties, dashed through the the brush, expertly moving with and covering a small fireteam, made up of a man with a beard and boonie hat, a younger man with a mohawk, and two masked operators. One had a skull painted on his face. He shivered internally.

As they reached the Ranger perimeter, the man in the boonie hat yelled into his truck mike, "I don't bloody care Nikolai, just land the bloody bird!" The masked one with a helmet turned, and smashed his rifle into the skull of a charging insurgent. He fell, and the operator straddled him, and unsheathing his K-Bar, viciously decapitated the poor sod.

Suddenly, as Dunn dumped a mag into another target, three Hinds flew barely 30 feet above their heads. "Price, my friend, we can't stay long! Hurry!" A thick Russian voice spoke over the radio, above the din on the gunfighting. "Copy that, Nikolai! Alright, muppets, get your asses to the bird! You Yanks, too!" screamed the man with the boonie hat.

"Ghost, Roach, provide cover! You three, with the MGs and grenade launcher," Mohawk said, pointing toward Morgan, Ramirez, and a SAW gunner named McKenna, "help them. We'll cover you as you come back." He turned to the rest of the Rangers and Russians, "Alright, let's go!" They sprinted towards the LZ, bullets kicking up debris and dirt around their feet.

Jenna's lungs burned from 2 hours of continous fighting and running, but she kept running. As she slowed slightly to catch her breath, a lucky shooter put three rounds in her left leg. She cried out, falling to the ground as her team and the others left her behind. All except one.

Tanya saw the female Ranger get shot, her leg damn near mangled. "Keep going! Line, I need you!" She shouted. Caroline and Tanya stopped, and reversed directions. Tanya dragged the wounded Ranger behind a suitable boulder, as Caroline laid down covering fire. As soon as Jenna was safe, however, they reversed roles.

"Keep still," Caroline shouted over the smoke. She swiped the wounds with antiseptic wipes, causing Jenna to whimper from pain. However, after she cleaned out the wounds, she applied a tourniquet on her upper thigh, to staunch the bleeding. She then applied a makeshift splint on the leg after wrapping it in bandages.

"Tanya!" Caroline shouted, getting her TL's attention. "I need you to carry her! I'm not strong enough!" The medic continued, grabbing her AK103 before putting a few rounds down range. "Jenna, where the fuck are you?!" Ramirez shouted over the radio. Tanya got on the radio, struggling to be heard, "This is 4-2! We have your wounded comrade! We just need five minutes to get to the LZ, over!"

An Australian voice and Dunn spoke at the same time, "Bullshit/Bollocks, nothing ever takes five fucking/bloody minutes!" At the same time, two other voices spoke at the same time, as well, in response, "Ghost/Dunn, shut the fuck up!"

Tanya grunted in exertion as she pulled the wounded soldier close to her chest, bridal style. She gripped Tanya's jacket a _little _too close to her breast for comfort, and Tanya felt her face light up redder than Rudloph's nose. She tried to ignore the way the girl curled up close to her, and her sudden overwhelming scent. _Like strawberries_, she randomly thought. Her blush intensified, and a growing heat in her core and wetness in her pants did not help one bit.

"Tanya! Move!" Caroline's shouting brought her back to reality. She pulled Jenna closer to her, to prevent a round hitting her again, and took off. She was vaguely aware of Caroline's rifle going _crack-crack-crack-crackackackack _behind her, and getting fainter, but she dismissed it as last minute spray'n'pray fire.

As she neared the clearing, fire intensified, and the sound of Caroline's rifle was nonexistent. However, she did hear one other thing, one she was grateful for: the steady beating of a helicopter's rotor blades. As she processed these thoughts, a Hind suddenly swooped in close, along with two Apaches, and the sound of 2 30mm chain guns and 2 PKM machine guns, coupled with the falling brass, struck everywhere but her position.

A trigger-happy Corporal Dunn was manning one of the machie guns, and he was having a _blast_! He was screaming things like, "YEAH, COME SUCK ON MY HOT, BRASS BURNT BALLS, GOATFUCKERS!" Ramirez was facepalming on the other gun.

As she got in the clearing, she noticed something: Caroline wasn't with her. As she ran towards the last chopper, with outstretched hands from the British sounding operators, she got her answer on where Caroline was. "This is Line. I'm not gonna make it. Sorry, guys, Tanya. Hail Mother Russia. Ura!" A resounding explosion was heard and felt, and the mushroom cloud soared 10, 20, 30, at least 40 feet high. Jenna curled up tighter and whimpered, tears leaking from her wide, brown eyes.

As the grizzled man in boonie hat helped her in, the plain masked operator shouted, "Nikolai, we have them! Let's get the bloody hell outta Dodge, mate!" A slightly nervous voice responded from the cockpit, "Don't need to tell me twice, Roach, my friend. Hold on; this may get rough."

Tanya set Jenna on her lap, keeping her injured leg straight, and strapped them in. She took off her beanie, letting her dirty blonde hair to fall down to her shoulders, and her bangs over her left eye. Jenna had taken off her helmet, allowing her chesnut brown hair to fall out in a sweaty mess. Her eyes fluttered, and she kept nodding off.

"Go to sleep. You need it," Tanya told her gently. Jenna nodded, and promptly set her head on Tanya's breasts, and started sucking on her thumb. The blush returned with a vengance. Soon, the young Ranger was snoring fitfully in the Spetsnaz operator's lap.

Tanya sighed, her right hand running through her hair, the left wrapped around the beautiful girl on her lap. The skull masked one looked over for a brief second before focusing on cleaning his ACR. Mohawk cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing as he leaned back and started snoring himself. The youngest one, she assumed, had taken off his headgear. He was breathtakingly handsome.

Black hair, dark as the midnight sky, ran down over his eyes and to the nape of his neck, with a dark red streak going from behind his right ear all the way down over his right eye. He was tanned, and had a bit of stubble growing in, suggesting prolonged patrols or days not on base. He also had almost unnaturally green eyes. They were warm, friendly, and full of mischief; he and Dmitri would get along well.

He gazed out the open door of the Hind, watching the mountains of the Shahikot vanish behind them. The leader with the boonie hat sat down next to her. He looked at her, and simply said, "Follow her example, lass. You look like Soap over there when he has one too many cups of ale." She nodded, and was soon drifting off to her dreams.

She fell asleep smelling strawberries and dreaming of a certain brunette.


	6. Operation Kingfish is a Go

**[Operational Base "Falcon"**

**Formerly Bagram AFB**

**Afghanistan**

**2 September 2014]**

Inside a rusty old hangar, nobody would suspect the second biggest manhunt in the 21st century was going down. Inside the hangar, members from some of the world's best special operations units were planning a huge operation. They were formed under a single task force, led by U.S. Army Lieutenant General Shepherd. They are Task Force 141.

Consisting of various European and North American units, including the British 22 SAS Regiment, members from B Squadron, 1st SFOD-D, Alfa Team from Russia's SPETSNAZ, the German KSK, Polish GROM, Australian SASR, DEVGRU, South Korean UDT/SEALs, and the 75th Ranger Regiment, along with ODA 637, 2nd Company, 10th Special Forces Group.

These men and women were poring over constant intel coming in, marking likely locations, hiding spots, weapons caches, and enemy strongholds. They were not fighting the Taliban any more. They were fighting Ultranationalists, members om Imran Zakhaev's failed attempt to destroy the West. With unspoken but sure funding from Russian President Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, these battle hardened men were training the locals against their enemy, giving them the latest in Russian weaponry.

TF-141 was looking for their leader. A former Soviet paratrooper. Vladimir Makarov. One of Zakhaev's lieutenants; he was there in Pripyat when Price shot off Zakhaev's arm. The huge mission in the works had gotten a name. It was Operation Kingfish.

"We believe Makarov is using the Shahikot as a recruiting ground and troop build up area," Corporal Tanya Zaytseva, waving a P226 with a laser pointer on it, said, marking the valley with her laser. "Here, on the Whale, we believe he has set up SAM sites, mortars, and possible anti-vehicular weaponry," she continued, pointing at the hump shaped topographic area. "On the Finger, he likely has set up artillery, machine guns, and scouts to report on anyone trying to enter the Shahikot."

A KSK officer raised his hand, saying, "So basically, we can't attack from anywhere." A few murmurs of agreement went up in the crowd. Tanya raised her hand, gesturing for newly-promoted Specialist Jenna Denning to speak. "In theory, that is correct. However, there is one thing we have that the enemy does not: the best warriors on the planet," she exclaimed. "Think. No ground vehicle assault, no air assault. What are the two things he will least expect?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Ramirez spoke up, "Airborne assault and infantry assault. Airborne is damn near impossible with those winds and mountains, and infantry assaults could take days just getting in position," he noted. Jenna nodded, saying, "Correct. But that gives us the element of surprise." She gestured back to the maps.

"Here, India Team was able to set up a 4 man OP and remain undetected for near a week. Here," she moved it over, "Mako 31 and Julliet Team were able to wipe out a Dushka position and confirm a large enemy presence, respectively."

Price started speaking, "Everybody on the bloody planet expects Yanks to be rolling in with loudass helicopters. That's what happened in '02. Now, we're changing that. We're doing a combined airborne and infantry assault into the Shahikot," he said. He then gestured to the assembled special operations units, "The Rangers will be the main driving force. Doorkickers will include my SAS boys, you KSK folks, and Team Metal."

Roach raised a hand, "So what about the 141?" "You're attaching to the SAS for this one, kid," Soap said, affectionately slapping his back. "Ain't nobody better than Wallcroft and his Fucked Up Boytoys," he continued, snickering. An indignant amount of, "Heys!" sounded out from the SAS section.

"Alright, back on topic. Spetsnaz, DEVGRU, ASF, and the SASR will hit these caves over here," Jenna said, throwing a pin on the map. "The Korean SEALs and GROM will be here along with 3 Ranger platoons acting as a QRF in case shit hits the fan. Any questions?" None were asked.

"Good. Assault One is the infantry guys; that's the first group we mentioned. Two is the cave group. We're gonna find something, or damn us for missing a target," Soap excitedly yelled. Jenna grinned evilly beside him, rubbing her hands together. "Ladies and gentlemen," she began, cackling, "welcome to **Operation Kingfish**."

**More of a filler than anything else... Main scene will be next chapter.**

**kthnxbai**


	7. Red Light, Green Light, 1 2 3

**[C-17 Globemaster II- "Carnage 2-2"]**

**[25,000 feet above sea level]**

**[Shahikot Mountains, Afghanistan]**

**[September 21, 2015]**

**[Coalition Task Force "Marauder"]**

**[Assault Group One]**

"Red light."

The battle hardened members of the 141, Spetsnaz's Alfa 4-2, and the Rangers Hunter 2-1, reacted instantly. Jenna checked over Dunn's chute, before slapping his head, her way of saying, "You're OK." He gave a high pitched yelp, before growling lightly.

She felt Ramirez slap the top of her helmet, his way of saying the same. She pouted- sometimes it sucked being 5'2.

"30 seconds!" the crew chief yelled over the radio. Jenna fastened on her oxygen mask, and pulled on her visor. The built-in HUD flicked on, activating her night vision. The cargo bay of the C-17 Globemaster II glowed a dull green, with bright green showing where the lights were on.

As the ramp finished descending, Captain Price raised a fist and stepped out of line. He went to the edge and looked off, the dark grey fabric of his hoodie and US4CES style cargo pants rippling in the harsh Afghan wind.

He stepped to the divide, and faced sideways. He raised his fist again, and as the light turned green, waved out the door. One by one, the operators jumped from 25,000 feet; that was about 15,000 feet above the Shahikot mountains.

As Jenna came closer to the ramp, she felt her palms get sweaty. Dunn turned around and flashed a quick wink, before he too vanished into the dull green abyss.

Price gave her a nod, and Ramirez clasped her shoulder again. She took a deep breath...

And let the wind take her where it will.

**[A few minutes earlier]**

**[Assault Group Two]**

**[Sergeant Kamillia Hantz]**

**[German KSK, 3rd Commando Company]**

**[Callsign: "Kilo 3-1"]**

To say Sergeant Kamillia Hantz of the German KSK was having a rough week would be putting it nicely. If getting frozen in snow, at 8,400 feet above sea level was rough, then YES SIR, she was having a rough day... for the past 5 days.

Kami was part of Task Force Marauder's recon team, and had been sent out during a whiteout to get into position. About 50 feet below her were the cave systems Group Two was supposed to hit.

"Group One has the green, repeat, Group One is dropping," announced Ensign Patrick Moffers. Time to get to work.

"Heads up, 3-1, time to shine," whispered Kami, as she shrugged out of the snow and prepped her gear. Everything on her vest and pack had been taped down to avoid making noise.

As she dropped a rope to rappel down, she noticed a few humanoid shadows moving around a larger shadow in a dim lamplight. Sue squinted, and pulled up her rifle's ACOG scope.

She felt her pulse quicken and the temperature drop a few degrees as she saw what was happening. She fumbled for her radio in her mad attempt to give a warning.

The single word she said sent a chill down everyone who heard it spines.

"DUSHKA!"

**AN: Ugh. School work. Gonna try to fill this stuff in...**

**Dushka= big, mean, 12.7mm/.50 caliber Russian anti-air gun. Nasty. Can shoot down fighter jets; just imagine a helo or a huge C-130... Or a Humvee. Ouch.**

**KSK time.**

**Alright, this AN ends because my imagination is farting and dying. Bye bye.**

**~ Anonymous Skrub/call_me_poet**


End file.
